Loved You First
by Alaska829Snow
Summary: Snow has some surprising words for Regina about the former Queen's relationship with Emma. SWAN QUEEN:) 3


It was a quiet Monday afternoon for Regina Mills. She was home, alone, passing the time before Henry next came to see her. She was in her office, attempting to distract herself with a book, when she was interrupted by the sound of her doorbell ringing.

She promptly got up, trying not to get her hopes up, trying not to imagine that it could possibly be her son at the door. She knew it was too much to ask that he would drop by unannounced.

When she passed by the mirror in the hallway, she cringed at the sight of herself. She knew she looked pitiful. Although she had managed to put on her work pants this morning, she hadn't bothered to iron or tuck in her shirt. Nor had she felt the need to put on any form of make-up.

She got to the door and opened it to the very last person she expected to see.

"Snow," she said, taking in the sight of the woman on her front steps. When she saw how impeccable Snow looked, she suddenly wished she had taken the time to pull herself together.

"Hi," Snow responded, quietly. "Do you think we could, um, talk for a minute?"

Regina tried her best not to sigh out loud.

It had been a long few months and she knew that if Snow was at her house, asking to talk to her, something must be awry; they only came together for threats that were bigger than themselves.

But Regina, somehow, resisted the urge to scream out loud that she was exhausted and not in the mood for another crisis. Instead, she nodded, letting Snow inside her empty mansion; they walked to the kitchen in silence.

"Have a seat," Regina instructed before sitting down across the table.

"Thank you," Snow replied cordially.

"How can I be of service to you?"

"I just feel like…I think we need to talk about Emma."

"Emma?" Regina tiled her head to the left, quizzically. "Is she…alright?"

"Yes, she's fine," Snow said, heavily exhaling. "Sorry. I, um…"

It was only then Regina noticed how uncomfortable Snow seemed. The usually confident woman sat before her fidgeting in her seat, barely able to make eye-contact. She should have been amused by it, but it was actually slightly disturbing to her. In fact, Regina was so thrown by the change in demeanor that she couldn't think of anything to say, and could do nothing but simply wait for Snow to continue.

"I just….I hope you can understand how, um, difficult it is for me….to have my…my only daughter hanging around the woman who made my life a living hell."

Regina rolled her eyes. She thought that they were passed this by now. Alas, she should have known that Snow would have a problem with her finally getting the opportunity to spend time with Henry again. As if it was Regina's fault that the son she adopted happened to also be the son of Snow White's daughter. As if it were her fault that this meant spending time with Emma.

"That is a rather ironic question," Regina snapped back, "coming from the woman who made _my _life a living hell."

"I wasn't a woman then," Snow reminded her, "I was a child."

"Is this really why you came here? To take a stroll down memory lane?"

"No," she insisted, "it's not. I came here to talk about the amount of time my daughter has been spending with you."

"Well," Regina began, "I don't know what you want me to say. I know you don't exactly like it, but we do share a son."

"I think we all know that you two share more than just a son, Regina."

"What are you….what are you talking about?"

"I happen to be an expert on this issue; the longing-glances and the excuses Emma makes just to touch you. Not that you even need to be an expert to pick-up on the looks between you guys."

Regina's entire body reacted to the words—she straightened her posture and crossed her legs. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I think you've finally lost it," she scoffed. "Your daughter and I have only recently been able to stand to be in the same room without threatening to kill each other. So, I don't know what you think you're picking up on but I can confidently assure you that…"

"It's fine," Snow interrupted her, "I didn't expect you to admit to it."

"Admit my true feelings for Emma?" Regina repeated out loud, mocking the very concept.

"It's alright," Snow continued, "you probably don't even know it yet. But I need you to tell me that….that…."

"That what?" Regina asked, frustrated.

"The curse—it took my daughter away from me, from my husband, for twenty-eight years. And I know that you think that I deserved it. And Emma keeps telling me that it wasn't entirely your fault—that Rumple and Cora manipulated you from the start. And I'm trying, just so you know, to believe that—or at least, to understand it. But that curse separated us from our baby girl for her entire childhood and I need you to promise me that this, whatever is between you two, isn't some grand scheme to take her away from us again."

Regina stared in awe and confusion at Snow, who was now a crying mess. She was at a loss for what to say, still digesting the accusations and the current state her long-time enemy was in.

"I would never hurt Emma," was the best she could come up with. She felt ok about her answer, because she meant it. Because, when she really thought about it, Emma had come to be someone she could rely on—one of the only stable things in her life.

Still, she wasn't exactly sure why she was even entertaining this conversation. She should've thrown Snow out, told her to go home and calm down. Instead, she couldn't help but be intrigued by where this was all coming from. And what Snow, princess of true of love, apparently saw that she didn't.

"I don't….I can't…," Snow mumbled. "How can I trust you?"

"Well," Regina said, trying to remain calm, "why don't you look at it like this: you've seen me raise Henry all these years. Do you trust me with your grandson?"

"I do," Snow admitted.

"Hurting Emma would hurt you, but it would also hurt Henry," Regina explained. "If you think I would jeopardize my relationship with him to hurt you and Charming, you underestimate how difficult these last few months have been for me."

"I would never underestimate how difficult it is to not be with your child."

"If that were true, you probably wouldn't have been so quick, or so happy, to jump on every opportunity to take him away from me."

"I've been trying to get to know my grandson, Regina."

"You've known him his entire life," she insisted.

"No, I haven't—Mary Margaret has known her student Henry."

"I'm still his mother," Regina stated, revealing her deepest insecurity—the one that had recently been bubbling to the surface.

"I know that," Snow promised. "It's a very surreal and confusing situation to share my daughter and grandson with you."

"Yes," Regina said, her voice now shaking, "you've made it abundantly clear how confusing it is that anyone, especially anyone related to you, could actually want to voluntarily be around me."

"On the contrary, your majesty," Snow said.

"Excuse me?" Regina questioned, feeling nauseous at the mention of her former title.

"I think you forget the reason why my father wanted to marry you in the first place."

"Because I saved your life," Regina hissed, resenting the suggestion that she could ever forget the reason why she received her jail sentence so many years ago.

"Because when you saved my life, I was the one who loved you," Snow corrected.

"Excuse me?" Regina repeated. She didn't know how many curveballs she could be thrown in one conversation.

"I was a little girl and you were the most beautiful woman I had seen—since my mom. And you were sweet, so sweet. I was drawn to you, because it seemed like…like you had a gentle soul. So I went home and I couldn't stop talking about the pretty new friend I made, the one who saved my life. I was the first person in my family to love you, Regina….not my father, not Henry, not Emma. It was me. And I really did, love you—wanted you to love me, wanted you to be my step-mother. I mean, God, there was even a time I felt safe with you—wanted you to protect me. "

Regina stared at her.

"So," Snow continued, "what worries me is that I know, from experience, how and why someone, especially someone related to me, would want to spend time with you. You've still got a face to die for, you know; you're still beautiful. I don't know about what kind of person you are now, but there are members of my family who insist this road to redemption is real. And I really need that to be true—because my daughter is so very fond of you, probably even loves you. So I'm just asking you…please, don't make her regret it like I do."

"Okay," Regina whispered. She wanted to say something else—even knew that she should. But she just couldn't. It was too much; much too much and much too soon.

The intensity that filled the room was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming open.

Regina stood up, unsure who was entering her house unannounced. Before she had time to investigate, Emma came running into the room.

"Miss Swan?" Regina questioned.

"Emma," Snow stood up as well, genuinely concerned that her daughter's unexpected arrival meant that something had happened. "What's wrong?"

"Dad said…..dad said….you came to talk to Regina….," Emma panted, completely out of breath.

"I did," Snow confirmed.

"You're both…..alive?" Emma looked back and forth at both of them, in an attempt to make sure everyone was still in one piece.

"Emma, we are capable of a civil conversation," Snow asserted.

"Oh really?" Emma questioned in disbelief.

"Yes, really…. isn't that right, Regina?"

"Yes," Regina agreed. "Snow and I are capable of a civil conversation."

"No one here is cursed or poisoned?"

"I'm not using magic!" Regina nearly shouted, not happy that Emma would imply otherwise.

"I'm sorry," Emma said, gently placing her hand on Regina's back, "I know you're not. This is just weird."

As Emma touched her, Snow shot her a look—a look that so very clearly said 'I told you so.'

Normally, the very thought of Snow being right would have sent a surge of rage throughout Regina's body. But, in this moment, she couldn't bring herself to be upset about the possibility.

Regina didn't want to hurt Emma. She wanted to be near Emma. She didn't want Emma's hand to leave her back. And she wasn't exactly sure what that meant. She just knew that for the first time in her life, the Evil-queen desperately needed Snow to be right.

"Yes," Regina whole-heartedly agreed, "this is weird."

"Well," Emma continued, taking a seat at the table, "as long as two are getting along, I guess I'll join you."

"You know you're always welcome, dear" Regina said, somewhat more awkwardly than she had intended it to sound.

"So," Emma asked, "what were you two talking about, anyway?"

"Our common ground," Snow vaguely explained to her daughter.

"Ah," Emma said, "so, Henry."

"Yes," Snow agreed, "Henry."

"Amongst other things," Regina stated—it was meant as an acknowledgement that she had heard and understood their conversation about Emma. And when Snow looked at her with a small smile, Regina knew the message had been received.

"Okay," Emma said, completely oblivious to the silent exchange happening at the table. "Does this common ground, perhaps, involve food?"

"It can," Regina told her.

"Thank you," Emma said, excitedly.

"Your daughter is _always_ hungry, Snow," Regina said, getting up from the table.

"I know, don't look at me—she gets it from Charming."

"What can I get for you two?" Regina asked as she opened her refrigerator.

"Anything with apples," Snow replied.

At first, Regina thought it was a dig, a threat, a reminder, an attempt at getting the last word. But as she turned around and looked at Snow she knew, immediately, that it wasn't.

It was forgiveness; it was a clean slate. It was a challenge for her to meet—Snow was looking at her as if to say, 'make us that apple turnover, because I know that you won't hurt us.' She knew it was Snow's way of saying that she was going to trust Regina, or at least try to.

"Okay," Regina smiled, "apples it is."


End file.
